Bloodline of the Wizard - Chapter 879: 442: Bones of Ice Frost, Scales of Flames, Ashen Snow

Her parents died in planned accident by her uncle. They used her in every way they can. They planned to sue her so she wont take her fathers company back. They want to destroy her life making her penniless. No one knows that she is the not the same girl who was played as puppet in their hands. Five years changed her a lot. Now she is a hidden genius still acting pityfull to take revenge.

Mr. Tycoon Is Actually the Father of My Child!

As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be.

In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.

―

[Excerpt]

“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

―

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The Empress who dies in torture, An Rushuang is her name. After she wakes up, she finds herself has time-travelled to when she was twelve years old, but she would turn into Major General’s white horse at night. He is a general who orders about the winds and clouds on the battlefield, and she is a little girl lives in her boudoir seclusively.

She endeavors to change her fate, and he spared no effort to win every battle. They meet each other every day, well, it’s night to be accurate. Is that a dream or not? She pleads to marry the seignior to win peace for her family, only to find he is the one she is going to marry.

“Growing old with you under the same roof is my long-cherished wish”, thought them both.